The Ways of Damnation
by Stayce
Summary: Sergeant Garvin Byrne of the Stormwind city guard finds himself confronted by murder and conspiracy in the heartland of the Alliance. Rated M for violence. If it gets off the ground this will be part one in a continuing series.


Authors Note: My first attempt at a Warcraft story. This won't feature any major characters although one or two familiar faces may crop up here and there. It features mainly original characters. It's rated M as this is probably not going to be nicest storyline but I hope it will be an entertaining one. Any comments would be appreciated but are not necessary. Without further ado, let's get on with it. I hope you all enjoy it...

**_"Your curiosity will be the death of you."_**

**_ KelThuzad_**

**PROLOGUE**

**THE SERVING GIRL**

The night was quiet. Eerily quiet. Some would say as the grave but Morlon didnt particularly want to entertain such thoughts, especially tonight of all nights. In truth it was simply a peaceful night, at least that was what he kept trying to tell himself as he hurried along one of the citys many canals trying hard not to think about the heavy package wrapped securely in wax covered parchment and goose feathers gripped tightly beneath his arm.

Yes, it was a nice night really. Stars were shining brightly and the slight chill in the air was keeping thoughts of ale from his mind. Had he not been tasked with this particular little bit of business he wouldve been more than happy to sit on the grass outside the Blue Recluse in the Mage Quarter and drink steadily until the sun came up. His master Valdavar didnt really appreciate such behaviour especially when he had an important experiment to conduct, usually in the small hours of the morning, but then Morlon didnt really approve of sitting around while his master poked and prodded at years old cadavers either, especially when his head felt like it was going to fall off and roll right under one of the dissection tables. All of this for the lowest possible wage the old Mage could muster as well. Morlon had long since made a mental note never to work for a magic practitioner ever again, especially not one with the unconventional interests of Valdavar Breton.

He glanced up at the moon as he turned a corner that lead away from the canal and into a densely packed warren of side streets and back alleys. A nearby tavern rang with the sounds of drink and merriment as he passed, the sounds fading quickly into the night behind him. Once again he found his mind turning to thoughts of the Blue Recluse. They served stoutest ale in the city to his mind and also employed some of the finest serving girls to boot. One in particular sprang to mind with her chestnut hair and button nose. She always carried a smile that one, and her hips swayed in a way that made him think the most unseemly things.

The thoughts of fine drink and finer women quickened his stride. If he got this business sewn up nice and tight he would have more than enough gold in his purse to return there and see in the next days dawn. In fact all the dawns for the next few months come to think of it and there was nothing a pretty serving girl liked more than a drunk who was free with his coin.

Around him the darkness seemed to be deepening, the stars retreating further into the black curtain of night that hung overhead. Despite the thoughts of swaying tavern girls and the flickering light of a comfy common room fire, Morlon felt himself shiver. He just couldnt shake the feeling that something was abroad this night, something that was less than pleasant.

He turned another corner into a small alley, drawing himself up to his full height - an admittedly unimpressive sight - in front of the side door to a ramshackle old house of cracked stone and creaking timbers. Pausing only for a moment to glance from the mouth of the alley on his left into its shadowy depths on his right he reached up and knocked softly on the door and proceeded to wait.

Nothing.

He stood for a full minute before knocking again, a little harder this time but still soft enough to avoid bringing prying eyes from any peeping toms curious as to who could be calling at such an ungodly hour. A quick glance at the surrounding houses made him think that such a thing was highly unlikely. Clearly none of the buildings within earshot had been occupied for a long time.

There was a creaking of footsteps from beyond the door and the sound of a heavy deadbolt being thrown back followed by the scraping of no fewer than three latches. The door opened a tiny crack casting a thin sliver of warm candle light out into the dark alley, the shadow of a fourth unopened latch now clearly visible against the wall of the opposite house. A single sharp brown eye appeared in the cracked doorway, blinking to accustom itself to the darkness as it peered into the alley beyond.

"Speak the password." Came a hoarse scratched voice followed by phlegmy cough.

"Still security conscious I see Sulley." Morlon chuckled back in an attempt to relieve the growing sense of discomfort this business was giving him.

"Speak the password." Sulley repeated, sounding a little more irritated this time. He coughed again.

"Oh come off it Sulley! Its me! It was you who told me to come here!"

"Speak. The. Password." Sulley repeated again, slowly and deliberately this time, but still managing to sound exasperated.

"Slim fingers, Fat purses." Morlon groaned in surrender. Sulley threw back the fourth and final latch and pushed the door open, his long thin arm stretching out to hold it in place. In his other hand he clutched a tall candle in a tarnished brass holder.

"Inside. Quickly." He said before letting out another of his phlegmy coughs.

Morlon wasted no more time. He hurried in out of the darkness that seemed to be growing thicker by the moment. Sulley closed the door quietly behind him, sliding the latches and deadbolt back into place with smooth, practiced movements.

"Did you bring it?" he said, his back to Morlon.

"Right here with me." Morlon said, flourishing the heavy package as best he could. Sulley glanced over one slim shoulder at it and grunted. It was the most praise anyone ever received from the tired old fence.

"Valdavar doesnt suspect anything?"

"I dont think the old man really knows half the stuff he has in that dusty old library of his. At least not enough to miss this one right away."

"The customers will be pleased to hear it." Sulley said, turning to face Morlon.

"Speaking of customers, isnt it about time I got paid for this little risk Ive taken?" Morlon said, glancing around the inside of the old house. It clearly wasnt Sulleys home. The place didnt look like it had been used as a home by anything other than spiders and occasional rat for a long time.

"Come with me." Said Sulley starting toward the stairs at the other end of the room. "Your money is with them." Morlon frowned.

"Something youre not telling me Sulley? Youre the in-between man here. I shouldnt be meeting these customers of yours. Safer for them, safer for me. At least thats what you always tell me." He said falling into step behind Sulley.

"Indeed I do. But these gentlemen are special." Sulley said as he started up the staircase. It creaked disconcertingly beneath his long thing feet.

"How special?" Morlon paused at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Special to the tune of fifty extra gold pieces for having the added pleasure of your company." Sulley spat, halting halfway up the stairs and glancing down to Morlon. "Now are you coming? We split the money right down the middle. Twenty-five gold a piece and all you have to do is show your face."

Despite his reservations, the offer was too good to pass up. Twenty-five gold to just arrive and stand in the corner while Sulley talked shop with his customers. To hell with caution! That was another couple of days drinking right there. At this rate he wouldnt need to face Valdavar ever again! He started up the stairs.

"So who are these customers, and why so much money for this thing?" he asked as they drew to the top of the stairs.

"Their business. None of yours." Sulley said and sneezed loudly.

"Damned dust." He muttered.

They walked down a narrow hall, Sulley leading the way toward the master bedroom at the rear of the house. Master bedroom perhaps wasnt the right word for it. Big bedroom might have been a better description. The other rooms appeared only a little larger than broom cupboards and only one of them held a bed inside that seemed to stretch from wall to wall. The floorboards outside the large bedroom creaked as Sulley stepped forward and pushed the door to one side. Inside the room looked like any other bedroom Morlon had ever seen. It was obviously the previous owner of the houses room. A moth eaten bed had been set in the left hand corner of the room and a small bureau and cupboard were aligned against the wall on the right. A small fireplace was set into the opposite wall with a faded red rug spread before it. Three chairs had been pulled close to it, each one facing into the warm glow of the firelight. Only one of them was occupied.

The man sat with his back to the door, his hands outstretched to soak in the warmth of the fire. He didnt look up as they entered. His partner did however. He was a tall man, lean and rangy with a smooth face but calloused manure stained hands. He straightened as they stepped inside.

"So you brought him after all." He said. His voice was weak and thin, the voice of a man born indentured but behind his watery gaze there was a gleam of cold steel.

"The money was a fine incentive." Sulley said simply with an almost courteous nod.

"I should hope so." The tall man said. "A Kings ransom for such a simple feat." He turned to face Morlon.

"Do you have what we asked for?" Morlon felt a sudden rush of fear in his gut. Something was desperately wrong. The man was not the usual kind of sleaze Sulley dealt with. He looked the part no doubt, with his filthy hands and tattered unassuming breeches but something about him suggested strength, and not the kind of tavern brawling muscle that clogged the streets throughout the city either. This man reeked of icy calm and cool composure. Why had he come to Sulley? Surely he was capable enough to do whatever he needed himself?

"I... I do." Morlon stammered nervously, stepping forward and holding the package out in front of him like a shield as he moved. The tall man moved forward with a clumsy long limbed gait. Like his hands and clothes though it rang false, a simple affectation for the benefit of misleading those around him. He reached out with those grubby manure stained fingers, a strange hunger behind his eyes.

"Give it to me." He said, his voice low, almost desperate. For a moment Morlon didnt know what to do. He stood paralysed before the tall figure. His arms were frozen with the package stretched out in front of him. Suddenly Sulley was between them, his normally arched back now straight and his eyes defiant.

"Money first or no deal." He hissed and for the first time Morlon noticed a small dagger in the old fences hand. It hung limply from between his fingers, but it was in plain sight nevertheless. The tall man didnt so much as glance at it.

"Of course." He said, his hands going to the money pouch at his belt but his eyes never leaving the package in Morlons hands. Sulley raised his hand and the tall man dropped the pouch into his outstretched palm. There was an audible clink of gold coins that hung in the air far longer than seemed natural.

Without another word the tall man snatched the package from Morlons hands and hurried across the room to the man seated by the fire. Sulley grunted and retreated to another corner of the room to count his money. Morlon watched as the man by the fire reached out and took the package, peeling the paper and goose feathers aside in precisely measured movements. He dropped the ruined remains of the packaging to the floor and rested its contents upon his knee. His hand ran smoothly, almost lovingly, across its surface.

"Wait a minute!" Sulleys voice called sharply across the room.

"This is only the fee for the package. What about the extra fifty for bringing him up here?" The tall man whirled on the spot, his eyes flashing for a brief moment with naked fury. Then suddenly the look was gone and all was ice again.

"Why I had completely forgotten! Do forgive me!" He exclaimed, his thin voice that of a servant apologising profusely to his master. I will bring it to you immediately. The man by the fire handed the tall man a second pouch and he started forward across the room.

"I would like to thank you for achieving all this Mr Sulley." He said as he moved. "Truly money well spent I think. After all I cannot imagine how we might have obtained this treasure otherwise, and you brought us the courier too. Another great service from a man truly skilled in his craft." He came to a halt in front of Sulley and for the first time Morlon thought Sulley looked nervous.

"Your money." The tall man held the pouch high in front of Sulley and shook it. The coins inside jingled loudly. Sulley reached for it and suddenly the tall mans free hand had Sulley by the wrist, his stained fingers twisting tightly.

What happened next was almost too fast for Morlon to register it all. Sulley raised the dagger in his other hand and the tall man struck like a viper. He dropped the pouch of coins and stepped behind Sulley, twisting the fences arm with him as he went. Sulleys striking dagger cut through nothing but air. Suddenly there was a second dagger, this one in the hand of the tall man. It rammed forward into the back of Sulleys chest and he let out a hushed gasp of pain as the air rushed out of him. The tall man leaned forward and whispered almost lovingly into Sulleys ear as the life bled out of him.

"Thank you again for bringing him here. Silencing you both wouldve been so much more difficult if we had had to hunt him across half the city." He pulled the dagger out slowly as Sulleys legs gave way and the old fence pitched forward onto the dusty floorboards. Morlon could barely move. His fear held him like a fly in amber while he watched the red stain on Sulleys back slowly grow larger and larger. Suddenly as if by magic he felt life returning to his frozen limbs and the very real danger he was in beginning to penetrate his fear stricken mind. He turned to make for the door only to realise he had been too slow.

Far too slow.

The tall man had moved quickly to block the exit; the dagger stained with Sulleys blood glinted wetly in the orange glow of the fire. There was no expression on the tall mans face as he advanced on Morlon. Morlon couldnt think straight. All he could see was the dagger in the tall mans hand the blood spreading ever so slowly across Sulleys back. For the briefest moment the image of the serving girl with her little button nose and chestnut hair flashed in his mind and he turned to run, forgetting for that briefest instant that there was no where to run to.

The man from the fire was standing behind him and a third dagger hit him between the ribs like a shaft of white-hot fire through his chest. He was opening his mouth to scream when he felt the tall mans hand close across his mouth from behind. The stench of manure from the tall mans fingers filled his nostrils as the dagger between his ribs was twisted savagely then pulled back and plunged in again, this time straight into his heart.

The world was fading now, colour bleeding away at its like edges like aged parchment. The fire seemed further away, and there was the sensation of falling. He felt his back hit the floor but the sensation didnt stop. He just kept on falling, the world spiralling even further out of reach. He felt his fingers grasping at empty air, desperately trying to cling to something, anything, to keep him from his endless tumble into the darkness. For a brief moment he saw the tall man staring down at him, those normally cool watery eyes filled with a look of rapturous delight.

"What do you see?" he begged. Morlon opened his mouth to answer but the tall man was already lost behind a button nose and a wave of chestnut hair.


End file.
